


Improving Oneself

by Angie13



Category: Malory Towers - Enid Blyton
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27928519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angie13/pseuds/Angie13
Summary: There have been a lot of lessons for Gwendoline Mary Lacey since she left Malory Towers.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Improving Oneself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jairissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jairissa/gifts).



> I want to thank my wonderful beta - KannaOphelia - for the reassurance and proof-work. <3

~1952~

Looking down at the sheet of paper with its neatly typed directions, Gwendoline Mary Lacey tried her best not to frown with discontent. She wanted so badly to make a good first impression at her new assignment — an impulse that was not in the least new but the effort and intention behind it would have surprised many of her old schoolmates. Oh, bother. The directions were not as clear as they should have been, considering the many entrances to the building. She glanced up at the nearest street sign and then back to the paper. Lamb’s Conduit. Not quite there.

She reckoned the main entrance would be best. If nothing else, she could ask for more clear instructions at the reception desk. Speaking from the years of experience during her father’s illness, Gwendoline knew how very much the ladies there knew. Doctors might have won the praise and carried the fancy letters behind their name but no one was more sensible and capable and knowing than a nurse or tea-cart lady in a hospital. The thought brought a faint smile to her lips which she quickly shook away as a fancy. Then she squared her shoulders and, with brisk steps and paper in hand, she marched up to Great Ormond Street, turned, and thus came face to face with the great, imposing structure itself.

Great Ormond Street Hospital.

Oh, dear. Maybe she was not quite good enough for this place. It loomed above her, etched with age and importance and the solemnly hopeful work done within its hallowed walls. Perhaps she had not improved as much as her last employer told her, despite the glowing recommendation they had written for her. 

Oh, she knew she was better — much better — than she had been four years ago when her father’s illness upended her world and brought the family crashing down to a more modest reality. In fact, she knew she was heaps better than she had been during all her years at Malory Towers. After nearly a year of pinching and economising, she had done the unthinkable and gone forth to find a secretarial course. At the time, she had known she wasn’t much good for anything else, having wasted her school years so shamefully. She had not discussed it with Mother at all; dearest Mother acted just as much the invalid as Father. She only told Father after her name had been put on the roll.

Only Miss Winter, dear patient Miss Winter, had foreknowledge of her decision. By turns aghast and practical and proud, she took over more of Gwendoline’s household duties while her former charge trimmed her nails back, tied back her long golden hair, and slowly developed aching wrists over a typewriter. It was funny in a sad little way how one’s opinion changed so rapidly and permanently after a good, hard shock. Gwendoline suppressed another smile at the stray thought of what her old mistresses would think of her now. Would she be counted among the successes of Malory Towers like brilliant Alicia, hard-working Sally, or all-arounder Darrell?

She hoped so. If nothing else, though, she wanted to keep up her father’s pride in her. Now that she had shown a deeper character to him, she refused to ever disappoint him again. The thought of her father’s continuing illness — improved as he was but still confined to a simple home life — brought her chin up in a stubborn little set that would have been familiar to so many back in Cornwall, but surprising in its context. Almost as surprising as the simple and neat knot of hair at the nape of her neck and the plain blouse and skirt set, all of it selected to encourage trust from superiors in an office. Her father had been full of pleased wonder when she told him of her next assignment at the fine hospital. Here was a place of healing, of learning. Great Ormond Street specialized in children, of course, not middle-aged men like her father but it felt very much the same and very worthwhile. She would do him and her teachers — all of them, past and present — proud. She would give her best to Great Ormond Street and they would never regret taking her on.

Gwendoline took a deep breath, lowered her chin to a less aggressive tilt, and set her hand against the pocketbook at her side to keep it still as she moved in brisk steps up the path and to the doors. It was best to keep going; she had learned that lesson the hardest way but it was learned well. She let a smile creep over her lips once she was through the door and squinting against the sudden change in light. Spotting the reception desk, she grew the smile to polite brightness and tapped her way across the floor with her paper half held out like a talisman. “Pardon me,” she began. “I was sent here to take on the open secretary position and I’m terribly afraid that the hiring agent did not provide quite exact instructions on where to report.”

The receptionist, a somewhat dowdy but warm seeming lady of fifty or so, returned Gwendoline’s look with a sweet smile and a slight tilt of her head. She held her hand up for the paper. “Oh, dear, they are always doing that sort of thing,” she sympathised as Gwendoline surrendered the sheet of instructions. “That’s what comes of letting men try to direct things, poor lambs.” She glanced down and clucked her tongue. “Let’s see here, dear. Oh, yes. You are assigned to the Hospital School and, let me tell you, you will find it hard work but fair and fine. Everyone is so lovely and devoted there.”

“I’m certain it will be wonderful.” Gwendoline carefully folded the paper in half when the woman handed it back. “I understand that it’s a brand new department, isn’t that right?”

“It is. Really about time, I should say. Those poor lambs get so far behind in their works when they get sick and have to stay here. I always say that a happy heart and a worry free mind makes for a stouter body. Of course, I don’t have the fancy training but I know from knowing children.” She shook her head sadly but her cheerful smile returned almost at once as she considered Gwendoline. “As it is so new, they are still working on the best way to proceed so I think you will be joining them at just the right time. Work hard, treat the children kindly, and they won’t know what they would do without you.” She chuckled indulgently as Gwendoline’s blonde head nodded eagerly, her pale blue eyes alight. “Now, then. I had best get you to them before they start wondering, hadn’t I?”

“Yes, please.” Just in case her notoriously unreliable memory chose to play tricks, Gwendoline pulled the stump of a pencil from a tiny pocket in her purse, balanced the folded sheet on her palm, and hovered over it with the dull point, ready to take notes. It had been one of the earliest tricks and hardest lessons learned during her secretarial course — constantly taking notes — and she found herself wishing she had accepted the lesson much earlier back in her school days. It would have helped her get along so much better than airs and graces. “I would appreciate that very much, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Oh, no, dear. You just call me Amelia, do. I expect to see quite a lot of you around.” Another warm chuckle rolled over Gwendoline and she caught herself smiling back once more; the older woman made the welcome so natural and honest. “Anyway, you will need to go down that hall to the lift, up to the third floor, and then down the hall turning left. There should be a workman finishing up a coat of paint right in the office there so you cannot possibly miss it.”

Gwendoline dutifully took notes in her shorthand, a creation of her own somewhere between the approved method taught by her course and her own awkwardly round script. Then she smiled her gratitude to Amelia. “Thank you very much. I am sure I will find it perfectly well.” She tucked the pencil back into her pocketbook. “I hope to see you again, Amelia. Have a lovely day.”

With a final small wave at the other woman, Gwendoline consulted her notes one more time as she tapped her way down the tile hallway. Luckily, it did prove as simple as Amelia promised and she was soon in the lift, listening to the faint creaks of machinery as it rose. She took a deep breath. It would be fine. A new department meant that no one was too established, no pecking order beyond what was in the rules. It would be a completely fresh start. No one would have any set notions about what kind of person she was.

For a moment, she stumbled, footing lost for just a half step in her sensible low heels, as the idea of new impressions settled over her. It would never stop being an instance of importance and nerves for her anymore. Even had her mother been in the least bit interested in re-enacting the tearful farewells and clinging embraces of her school days, transposing them to first days at new offices, Gwendoline realised with a stark conviction, that she no longer would ever allow them, not even through any misguided sense of punishing her parents but solely due to the fact that such false pretenses were ridiculous. She was an adult and would behave in an honorable, sensible manner. If only she had listened to her father and learned earlier, some things could have been so much nicer. Oh, well. Gwendoline steadied her steps and absently patted the pocketbook at her hip. What was in the past was past. Today was a new position and she planned to do as well as she could and help the hospital school. She felt more confident about her secretarial skills than she had four years ago and, should they need her to help outside the office with the patients… Well, her father had taught her much about patience and kindness and the kind of quiet someone suffering needed.

“Oh.” She drew up short, the soft gasp leaving her involuntarily, as a slight woman in a nurse’s cap suddenly rounded the corner just before her destination and very nearly collided with her. “I beg your pardon,” she quickly offered.

“Oh, no. It’s my fault entirely. I apologise. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Something about the voice and slightly breathless way of speaking froze Gwendoline in place and she stared until the other woman lifted her head to reveal her sweetly plain face, gentle dark eyes set in a pale oval. Gwendoline swallowed a bit but then, determined to not allow herself time to think, answered quietly, “No, really. It was entirely my fault, Mary-Lou.” 

Recognition lit Mary-Lou’s face and her eyes widened a bit further. “Oh. Oh, Gwendoline Mary.”

“Just Gwendoline please. I…” She hesitated and then smiled, genuine but uneasy at the reception. “You are looking very well. It’s been a long time since I last saw you. Is this your department?”

“Y-yes. I’ve just been moved from another. The children, you see. We’re trying to make sure they get as much normalcy as possible so I volunteered to follow some of them over here to help in…” She trailed off, looking increasingly distressed. “I’m sorry I didn’t write to you more frequently. I didn’t know you were going to take on a position here.”

Gwendoline resisted the old urge to tug a piece of hair from her neat bun and stroke it for comfort. This was awkward and un-looked-for and not particularly wanted. It was one thing to know one’s own weaknesses and work against them. It was another to face someone who had been hurt by them. “Please. Please, Mary-Lou, don’t apologize. Your letters were always nice to get and I appreciated them more than I could ever say because you and I both know I hadn’t really earned the honor. The fact that you wrote at all was appreciated. Honestly.” She feared she was babbling and drew in a breath to steady herself. “Honestly,” she repeated. “The children are so lucky to have you. I am sure they were so relieved to know you would come with them.”

Mary-Lou relaxed enough to smile and nodded in shy agreement. “They were. They are such dears and so brave. Braver than anyone realises sometimes.”

Just like you, Gwendoline thought but had enough sense not to say it aloud. There was something else that needed to be asked instead. She dreaded it because she desperately needed the position and heaven knows what she would say to her father if she lost it. However, being a good character often meant pushing through an unpleasant moment. She bit her bottom lip briefly. Then, quietly, she asked, “Mary-Lou, will it be alright with you if I stay here and work? I don’t want you to be bothered.”

Honest surprise flashed through Mary-Lou’s eyes and she stared until Gwendoline felt her cheeks pink and dropped her own eyes. “Pardon me,” she muttered. “That was exceedingly stuck-up and piggish, wasn’t it? Thinking I was important enough to bother you when you have such important work to do and the children need all of your focus. I swear I didn’t mean it like that. I just…”

The touch of a small hand at her wrist made Gwendoline look up to find Mary-Lou smiling the oh-so-familiar smile — all gentleness and understanding. “No,” the other woman said decidedly. “No, you will not bother me and you really must come work here. We need the help.” A slight twinkle appeared in her eyes. “And I know I haven’t written to you lately but I do remember that you had been working hard at your studies and helping with your father. I’m sure you’ve learned so much that will help us here.”

The gratitude that flooded through her felt unreal, too powerful and strange, but the smile that met Mary-Lou’s shone with the complete honesty of it. With little hesitation, Gwendoline moved to take the other woman’s hand in hers and squeeze. “Thank you. I do so want to prove I can,” she admitted. “You and the other nurses will just have to order me about to make sure I am doing everything right. Do you think you can?”

“I will certainly try my best.” Mary-Lou giggled, released Gwendoline’s hand, and then stepped to her side. Without waiting for permission, she drew Gwendoline’s arm through hers and the blonde felt a lightening of spirits at the clear indication of welcome. “Come along, then. Let’s introduce you to the Head Matron.”

“Thank you, Mary-Lou. Thank you ever so much and… And I do want you to know that I’m sorry for bumping into you and everything else ever, too.”

“I know, Gwen. I know.” Mary-Lou squeezed the other’s arm against her side and started them walking again. “Let’s start fresh and new. It will be absolutely lovely. I know it will.”

And Gwendoline Mary Lacy believed her… and believed herself as well and it was ever so nice. Growing up was hard and the future uncertain but, really, one could make a success if only one learned their lessons eventually.


End file.
